New Erotica 5

by Неизвестный

  ‘That’s it! Come,’ she cried, and slapped me once again in delirious arousal. I felt her hand slip out of me, as I fell to my knees, with my pants tangled around my lower thighs. I turned my head groggily, and her figure swayed above me as my eyes struggled to focus. I watched as she sat down before me and lay on her back. Her brown thighs lolled wide, and the slit below the thin stripe of her pubic hair gaped pinkly out at me. I saw her hands float down, dreamlike, to flirt with the glistening opening, and watched, fascinated, as the pale ovals of her fingernails disappeared into the puffy crack. She had no ring on her fingers, and her right hand slipped up, unhindered, until only the last knuckles could be seen. Her other hand had slipped beneath her, and she raised her hips up so that she could delve between her plump cheeks. I clearly saw her pink and hairless anus accept the probing of the middle finger of that hand.

  I rolled over on my naked hip to her, so that I could lie on my side and watch her masturbate. My eyes had adjusted to the dimness, and every detail of what she was doing was plain to me. I was especially fascinated by what she was doing to her arse, and my gaze was concentrated there. I lay as if in a dream and devoured the sight of her anus sucking at that slim finger. It bulged a little outwards as the slim stem withdrew, shining from the juices that were dribbling from the workings of her other hand.

  The noises of Anne’s panting mingled with the wet sounds of her masturbation, until it was difficult for my ear to separate the two. I saw her arsehole tighten, and her cheeks bunch ever tighter against the hand between them. It looked like some kind of sandy-coloured spider crouched in the seam of her bottom, probing with one jointed leg into the crinkled hole that they framed. Her huffing and puffing changed to low animal groans, and the firm muscles of her inner thigh strained so that the tendons were thrown into sharp relief. Her upraised stomach rippled with contractions as she jerked her hand inside herself. My own stomach tensed as her crisis approached, until there was a knot of tension under my heart. All at once she collapsed, letting her bottom thump down on to the spider. Its legs fluttered weakly under the bulge of her cheeks, while her other hand slipped out to dangle against her inner thigh. I hauled myself over to her on shaking limbs, until I was crouched on all fours above her. I gently let my upper body down to rest on hers, and felt the answering clasp of her damp thighs around my waist. My knickers were in a tangle round my ankles, so I kicked them off, and drew my knees up under me again, so that my bottom swayed loosely to the cool air that drifted in the open window. I lay like that, with my head on her sweat-beaded chest, and listened to the heavy thumping of her heart. My head rose and fell gently, with her breathing, and her hand eventually walked up the wet coils of my hair to rest on the crown of my head. Her heartbeat was slow and steady before she next spoke, and I smiled into the golden skin of her chest.

  ‘You are going to have to return to that house, Jessica,’ she said, ‘but don’t worry. I shall be going with you.’

  I murmured some sort of thanks against the firm mound of one breast, but I was lost in the feeling of the coolness in my cleft and the loose, lazy sensation in my bottom.

  ‘I have a plan,’ she continued, ‘and I think you’re going to like it.’

  I listened to her outline of what we would do. Her voice rumbled pleasantly up from her chest, and I felt the first warm stirrings of hope light a stray ember in my stomach. The slide into depravity began there, and I would love every minute of it.

  THE BOND

  Lindsay Gordon

  Forum said of The Bond, Lindsay Gordon’s third novel for Nexus, that it ‘rescues the vampire novel from the lush clutches of Anne Rice and gives it a modern, adrenalin-fuelled spin.’ We’d say it was one of the most original, challenging and stimulating erotic novels we’ve published in a long time.

  The first two are Rites of Obedience and The Submission Gallery, and Lindsay followed The Bond with Angel, See-Through and Domination Dolls.

  In the following extract from The Bond, Missy gets hungry …

  There was a lot of talent in the bar where I met Charlie, but I know he was the right choice. I needed some vigorous loving after the long journey to La Posada.

  ‘May I sit down?’ were his first words.

  Narrowing my eyes and blowing a plume of smoke across the table, I wore my best look of disinterest. Dressed in a black suit and silk shirt with no tie, he stood before my table, smiling. His self-assurance made me suspect a cocky side if he became too comfortable in my company. I liked his smile, though, and I dug the retro style to his clothes; it reminded me of happier times. I did suspect Charlie of being vain, but knew I could work that to my advantage – vain men make me aggressive and I was in the mood for something hard.

  ‘Sure,’ I said, curious about him. If he was a fool I could easily get rid of him.

  He pulled up alongside me in my booth, but didn’t get too close.

  ‘What’s your name?’ he asked.

  ‘Bonny,’ I answered, still looking straight ahead, already having decided that I’d like to be Bonny for the night. My real name is Missy, but Bonny suited the place I was drinking in. It had a swing band, red leather bar, dim lights and layers of smoke drifting above people’s heads.

  ‘Can I get you another drink?’

  ‘Thanks. Bourbon, straight.’

  He signalled for the waiter and introduced himself as Charlie. While he messed around opening a packet of smokes and cracking small talk, I stretched my mind to take a closer look at him. Late twenties, I guessed, gym freak, was probably self-employed, and had no worries about being single because he needed plenty of time to stand before a full-length mirror admiring his body, and although girls came easy few were that patient. Although he enjoyed a good run with the ladies in his small and knowable town, he loved to see a new face in one of his haunts. Especially mine, with a beauty spot and cherry-red lips, like a vision sent from the past.

  Across the lounge, Hank sat in shadow, watching us from his booth. Through the dark I could see the end of his cigarette and could feel his eyes on my bare shoulders and cleavage, framed by the black dress I had on. He’d been to this bar before and had brought me down here after we ate steak in a diner. Once I’d finished my second dessert of ice cream and lemon pie, I told him I was hungry and he said he knew a place.

  Light from the lamp on my table, shielded behind green glass, allowed my date to check me out; the way guys do when they think they’re being discreet. But for a guy who was so self-assured, his speech broke up when he took a good look down my dress and at my shiny thighs crossed beneath the table. Saying little, I nodded at his comments and occasionally answered a question. Around the room I saw another four guys who had waited too long to come over and ask if I wanted company. On each of their faces something had dropped; the hope had disappeared from their eyes and been replaced by longing. Still, I was happy with this Charlie character and my appetite increased every time I got a whiff of his scent under all that aftershave. Wondering if Charlie’s muscle cut was deep and tanned, I gave him a little more attention. As I turned my eyes upon him, he stared at me like he would do anything not to blow it with me.

  ‘Bet you’re all of eighteen,’ he said.

  ‘Close,’ I replied, smiling at last.

  ‘You studying up at the college?’

  ‘No, I never took that route. Fell in love instead.’

  ‘I know that story,’ he said, nodding. ‘Did he turn into a louse?’

  ‘No, he turned into my husband.’

  ‘You’re married?’

  ‘Afraid so.’

  ‘Sorry. I didn’t see anyone with you.’

  ‘No harm done,’ I said, enjoying the smell of his anxiety.

  Confused, he gave me more space in the booth. ‘Want me to beat it?’

  ‘You’d know by now if I did.’

  ‘What you doing out, then?’

  ‘Playing a game.’

  ‘Don’t see any cards,’ he said, and then laughed nervously.


  ‘There are other ways to gamble.’

  ‘Like?’

  ‘Maybe I’ll show you.’

  He looked uneasy.

  ‘See all those people out there?’ I said.

  He nodded.

  ‘One of them is my husband.’

  Charlie started to look around.

  ‘Don’t look. That’s one of the rules. Look at me instead. Why change the habit of your entire evening?’

  Picking up his drink, he knocked it straight back and looked like he was ready to split. Only he couldn’t; despite the alarms screaming inside his head he was unable to leave my side.

  ‘Thought you were the type who liked a game,’ I said.

  ‘You might be the prettiest thing I’ve seen outside of a magazine, miss, but losing teeth is another matter.’

  ‘He’ll thank you for it.’

  Charlie exhaled. ‘You’re shitting me.’

  I shook my head and giggled. ‘My husband’s older than me. A lot older, and he likes his young wife to be happy.’ With that I gave him a wink and he relaxed a little. ‘Interested?’ I added, and uncrossed my legs. He said nothing, but began to rub his mouth. In his lap, I could see the rise I had made out of this lounge Romeo.

  ‘Want to dance with me?’ I invited, when the band began a good slow Red Simpson tune.

  He swallowed and I watched his Adam’s apple move up and down his clean-shaven throat. ‘More than anything,’ he whispered.

  For some reason that story gets most guys horny. I use it often when I hunt younger guys because it keeps Hank sharp too, on account of him liking the sweet pain of my betrayal. You see, later on, after my thirst is slaked, I’ll tease Hank with the story and if I’m lucky his love will leave bruises. Hank seemed distracted for a few days and I lacked the energy to try levering details from him. In hindsight, I guess he’d been dreaming about the Preacher and that is never a good sign. As we drove in the late afternoon, when the sun turned red, Hank’s hand was near my puss as he steered the car with the other, and my need to play began to boil beneath my skin. Uncomfortable, I became sassy and snapped at him in the car. Being preoccupied with his dreams about the Preacher, it was probable he deliberately whisked me into feeling restless, not only because he liked to watch me hunt, but because he wanted to be punished in this passive way for being unable to shake that bastard from out of our lives for good. Tonight, he wanted to twist and burn over me while I took another man. And after he’d taken my bottom without permission that morning, Hank deserved to ache for me. If I was lucky, maybe he’d weep over my digression too; reassurance a girl can never get enough of.

  As we danced, Charlie held me close and let me sample an impression of his thick pipe, hard as wood, and waiting for me down there. Pressing through my thin dress, I could even feel the shape of the big head. Raising myself on to my toes, it rested against my puss and I decided I loved the feel of it. Wondering about his fit inside me, I imagined it passing through the slit in my sheer panties. I let him hold me closer.

  ‘Do you have a place?’ he asked, and a shudder passed through him.

  ‘Mmm,’ I moaned, close to his smooth cheek. ‘A motel room. My husband rents it for me, just out of town, so our neighbours never get wise.’

  Charlie pressed his pipe against my belly, made firm by a white corselette. ‘Girl, you’re too much.’

  ‘Want to see my fuck pad?’ I asked.

  Charlie couldn’t speak but his hands clenched on my buttocks.

  ‘But let me be honest, I want to fuck, nothing else,’ I said.

  His breathing became hoarse, but there were no words, and his exhalations began to hang like low clouds over my bare neck. Feeling his energy build up was exciting. In anticipation of having him splashed all over and up inside me, I decided to make things worse for him and better for me. ‘I’m real tight, though, so don’t rip anything.’

  With a dry hand, he pulled my face before his lips and I could see the devil in his eyes. ‘Now,’ he whispered.

  I kissed him long and deep, giving him tongue and leaving smears of red across his mouth. ‘My husband is watching, so kiss me good.’

  Charlie raped my mouth right there on the dance floor. Among all those dancing couples and under the hot lights, I explored his body through his thin shirt. When my claws found his back he broke from the kiss to gasp. Lining his skin, I let him know our love would be hard. ‘Maybe I can’t wait,’ he said.

  ‘Then maybe you should take me outside.’

  Whisked from the dance floor, Charlie pulled me through the tables and out into the parking lot. As we left I looked over my shoulder at Hank, who was slouching against a pillar by the dance floor. Through the murk of smoke and the lightning of strobe, I caught sight of simmering eyes in a drawn face. I smiled and blew a kiss. Charlie held my hand and led me from the bar.

  Behind the kitchens, in long shadows, I enjoyed Charlie’s fury. Panting his desperation all over my upturned face and white shoulders, his hands became busy below. He slapped his belt from the buckle and flopped his stiff meat into the night. When my cool fingers entwined around his length to massage the veins and ridges of his girth, Charlie raised my dress up to my navel. Cold air washed across my thighs, taut with suspenders, and lapped around my waist, braceleted by a corselette. Squinting through the dark, and trying not to whoop with joy, he surveyed the treasures he never expected to glimpse when preparing himself earlier in the evening.

  As I squeezed his fat pipe and pushed my hand, vigorously, up and down his length, Charlie’s breathing found a rhythm. ‘I’m damp,’ I said. ‘And my panties are slit under the corset, so get this inside me, quick.’ Gripping the rear of my thighs and spreading his feet, he measured my weight and then lifted. His biceps swelled and his face trembled. Passing my hands over my shoulders, I grasped a window sill. My heels left the tarmac as Charlie raised me to the right height. ‘Fuck me,’ I whispered to his wild eyes.

  Inside my head, waves slammed and broke apart on a cliff face. Thick as a python, Charlie’s fat cock stretched me so wide I thought I heard something tear. Resting my head against the rough bricks of the wall, and stiffening my shoulders to form a solid base into which he could smash, I readied myself. When he came through me I squealed like a feeding piglet. Long strokes to the very back of me made me feel as light as a feather. At the pit of my womb, where all the velvet waited to slurp his milk, the head of his cock felt like an apple. Hard and round, it slipped down to pack my box, then withdrew to the squeeze of my lips, before rifling back through me to push the air from my body. Grinding himself in hard, the flat muscles on his pelvis squashed my clit-pip and I started to croak.

  Across the lot, two girls climbed from a Pontiac Firebird and stopped dead in their tracks. Over Charlie’s shoulder I could read the shock and delight on their pretty faces. Staring at our bouncing silhouettes, they giggled silly, excited things to each other. Deep down, I knew both of them envied the strange girl the local tough thrust up and down the wall.

  Spiking the back of his thighs with my heels, that glinted like shiv blades in a street fight, I spat right into Charlie’s face. My spit dripped from the black arch of his brows and in his eyes I could see a murderer’s glee. ‘Want to play hard?’ he said in a hissy, pissy voice and his mouth went all fierce; not ugly, but savage and snarly. When I’m fucking I like to see that, and it makes me push my luck to find a man’s limit. Afterwards, they always weep like babies and hold me like they’re sorry, but I only smile and enjoy the bruises they leave, as if the black marks are kisses left by a movie star’s lips.

  ‘Go on,’ I said to him, and widened my hips a fraction to take the blasting from his groin. Dipping his head, he groped a mouthful of brassière and the soft flesh it suspended and almost bit my breast off. After half a dozen thrusts that made me see stars, he paused and groaned. I felt two strong pulses in my womb. Pushing his floppy body away, I dropped to a crouch before him. While I made ready to collect, a thick rope of cream landed on my chee
k and it felt hot. The next three ejaculations I managed to pull into my mouth and they hit my tonsils before slithering into my tummy. I suckled hard, until his brown cock waned against the inside of my clinging cheeks, and Charlie had to clutch his chest with one hand and support his weight by pressing the other into the wall.

  After my own dizziness passed, I fingered the stickiness from my cheek and rubbed it over my teeth in preparation for drinking something more salty. As I pulled my stockings back up to the lips of my puss and straightened my dress, I watched the two girls from the Pontiac walk past with their noses pointed at the moon. I felt their sudden disapproval and hoped they would stay quiet.

  The taller blonde girl whispered ‘slut’ to her busty friend. Whether she intended me to hear or not, she had no idea that I could hear her thoughts if I chose. When I’m aroused I can catch a quick heartbeat in my ears from the other side of a room; I can smell a fresh slice on a finger in broken glass three blocks away; and I want to tear skin apart like pastry to lick out the filling beneath. Never fuck with me when I’m roused.

  ‘Fuck you,’ I said, real loud, and patted my hair flat where it stuck out at the back.

  Busty gasped at my language but the tall bitch with the mouth said, ‘Against a wall, not likely.’

  They only enjoyed a few seconds of laughter before I was beside them. While Busty cried, I took Lanky back to her car, slapping her tight arse all the way to humiliate her into being my bitch. Stunned by the strength in my hands, and unsteady on her pencil-thin heels, she was manoeuvred against the rear door of the car so I could shove her over. When her long legs were stuck in the air and her head slid about on the leatherette of the back seat, I took a peek at her puss.